What can I do?

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Today is Consecration Day for me! I had tried while pregnant with Ian to get through the 33 Days to Morning Glory, and encountered too many spiritual barriers to make it all the way through. But this time has been a wellspring of blessings and comfort. I was able to see changes in my life from the second week, and am doing things I've never been able to do in my entire life. God is truly blessing this little endeavor.

What has helped most is the new ability to let go of my children's futures. I have always struggled with this idea. "Letting Go" is impossible for me because I care so deeply; the only way I've ever been able to do it is by giving up hope and decreasing my love and care. This was possible with people in my life before I had kids. Even my husband (God bless him) I could love less when he disappointed me or refused to meet my needs. It was very difficult, and caused years of strife, but I was able to "let go" of my expectations for him and it turned out to be what saved our marriage. I accepted him for who he is, worked on meeting my own needs, and in time we grew a beautiful partnership of equals. But I only got there by going through a long period of believing in my heart of hearts that this marriage would not last. I don't recommend this.

I couldn't do that with my kids. No matter how much I tried, I could not love them less or care less about their future. Well-meaning friends and family would tell me that there was really no way to assure obedience or compliance from my children, and that I should expect their defiance, and be unbothered by it. To me, that felt like telling someone not to worry about the bear wandering into their campground because, hey, you're in the woods! You should expect bears and be unbothered by them!

Yet, they were right. I should expect defiance from my children, even when I am asking them to do what is right and good, because they are children. They have not yet developed the inner self-discipline to do what is right on their own. If they had, I wouldn't need to ask! And it's unlikely they'll develop this until they've been living on their own for some time, simply because that's the dynamic of family life.

So how does this look, practically, in my own home life? It means less yelling. A lot less. Granted, there was a great deal of yelling before so it's not like my home is a haven of peace and gentleness quite yet. But it is significantly different now, because I know that their behavior is not my responsibility. I've always KNOWN that intellectually, but I haven't been able to accept it emotionally until now.

I hope to blog more in the future about how my parenting has changed and my motherhood has flourished, amid all of the challenges I've always faced. For today, I am basking in the joy of my consecration and the knowledge that my Blessed Mother is near me.

Monday, July 17, 2017

There's a scene in the movie Ghost where Whoopi Goldberg is holding a seance and one of the "spirits" in the room takes over her body. Her clothes billow out, her face grows grave, and she is no longer herself.

Depression is like that for me. I am suddenly taken over by someone, or something, else, something that is not me, but is in my body controlling what I think, say, and feel. I am there, too, but muted, like an echo or a conscience. I see what's happening, I know it's not right. It's not who I am or who I want to be. And I can't do much but watch and mourn.

The person who takes over when I'm depressed is Angry. Everything bothers her. Everything is pointless. Friends don't understand. Family members do nothing but judge. The children are hopeless and helpless drains on me and, one day, on society. Every choice I've ever made was wrong and my life is meaningless.

From my journal a week ago: Back here again. Screaming and swearing at the children. Watching TV because my brain is dead. Feeling like I should never have married and become a mother because it just sucks and my children suck and I hate everything about it. I like little, little babies. They're cuddly, and I get tons of endorphins from breastfeeding, and in the middle of the night I pray and commiserate with eternity through those moments which every mother shares. The rest of it is stupid and awful. I fucking HATE cleaning up their messes. I hate trying to teach them right from wrong. I hate their stupid fucking attitudes. I wish I'd never had kids.

The worst is that during this awful time, when I need the Lord so desperately, I am unable to pray. Literally, I cannot form the words to any prayers. I will start, and get a sentence in, and AngryTN says "What's the point? He doesn't answer." Then instead of praying, I begin to list all the grievances I have against God. He never healed me during my pregnancies. He hasn't converted my husband. We are still struggling financially. Nothing I've tried with my eldest son is working. I follow the teachings of the Church and where does it lead me?

So I try again, but prayer angers me. Angers me so that I deliberately begin to think about something as far from God as I can; something vengeful, something lewd, something heretical.

When AngryTN is gone, I am filled with regret and shame. I don't know why I am not strong enough to fight her. I don't know why God hasn't healed me of the depression, or at least shown me how I can get help! I have tried medication, I have tried therapy (both talk and EMDR), I do all those things that they recommend (at one point my therapist read me the list and I do 9/10 of them on a daily or weekly basis and the 10th I tried for three years without success.) I am on supplements to regulate my hormones. I've tried blood tests and natural doctors.

Nothing is working.

I found comfort from a surprising source yesterday. My dad called to tell me of an insight he'd been given during contemplation, which he was told to share with me. It is complicated, and I fear to write it down because without more explanation it may do more harm than good. But he helped me to see that my sufferings are not evidence that I am doing it wrong, but rather an opportunity to do even more good for those I love. I hope to write a longer post about it sometime, because the conversation I had with my Dad was so beautiful that I know others can be helped by it, too.

In the meantime, I am moving forward with what I know to be true and right. This prayer is on the wall of my bathroom so I can be reminded of it every day.

God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission—I never may know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I have a part in this great work; I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons.

He has not created me for naught. Ishall do good, I shall do His work; I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it, if I do but keep His commandments and serve Him in my calling.

Therefore I will trust Him. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him.

He does nothing in vain; He may prolong my life, He may shorten it; He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends, He may throw me among strangers, He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide the future from me—still He knows what He is about.

O Emmanuel, Deign to fulfill Thy high purposes in me whatever they be—work in and through me. I am born to serve Thee, to be Thine, to be Thy instrument. Let me be Thy blind instrument. I ask not to see—I ask not to know—I ask simply to be used.

"I think when you use the word 'fail,' you alienate a lot of people," said children's television host Miss Lori, a mom of three. "I believe in allowing my children to stumble." Teaching them how to get up again is enormously important, said the social media strategist and Babble.com contributor. "But fail, not so much, especially in school. Our education system is already failing them in most cities. Their school résumé is too important, and they have too few years to amass it."

“Responding physically to physical attacks is not the right first response,” she told TODAY Parents. “However, ... we cannot allow children to become victimized. If a child tries a verbal deflection and is met with physical threats, he or she needs to know that they have the right to defend themselves physically.” “One possible consequence is that physically defending yourself against an attack might lead to a fight. Your child might lose that fight. They may get hurt. The attacker may get hurt. The teachers, mentors or adults in charge, may get involved. Your child might get sanctioned for fighting,” he wrote.

How's that for the perfect illustration of a lose/lose situation? You have the right to defend yourself, but doing so will probably lead to sanctions and adults getting involved, but at least the bullying will stop...except probably not because the whole point of the article is that adult involvement doesn't effectively stop bullying or teach children how to respond to bullying behaviors!

Not that I need the internet to be shown my failures. Every time I lose my temper, each well-meaning "observation" from family members, all the hundreds of times per day the kids fight with each other, talk back to me, whine, complain, act selfishly, lie, break something, or eat a bunch of candy, convinces me that my parenting is abysmal and I am raising the next generation of entitled brats, and hence, that my entire life's purpose is worse than useless.

Yes, I know, this is a sign of depression. From this article, about the stress to be "perfect": "When you have depression, it's about constantly battling the negative thoughts and constantly battling the comparison. And it's so tiring." Someone who doesn't battle this disease will simply advise me not to care about other people, not to listen to any voice but my own. The problem is, I don't trust my own voice or my own perspective.

Love this post from Bunmi Laditan

How To Be A Mom in 2017: Make sure your children's academic, emotional, psychological, mental, spiritual, physical, nutritional, and social needs are met while being careful not to overstimulate, understimulate, improperly medicate, helicopter, or neglect them in a screen-free, processed foods-free, GMO-free, negative energy-free, plastic-free, body positive, socially conscious, egalitarian but also authoritative, nurturing but fostering of independence, gentle but not overly permissive, pesticide-free two-story, multilingual home preferably in a cul-de-sac with a backyard and 1.5 siblings spaced at least two year apart for proper development also don't forget the coconut oil.
How To Be A Mom In Literally Every Generation Before Ours: Feed them sometimes.
(This is why we're crazy.)

Sunday, May 7, 2017

We took a great trip to Glenwood Springs for Spring Break. This is our third year going as a family, and the first year I actually got to ride the alpine coaster seeing as I was not needed to hold a baby up at the top. I won't lie, I was pretty nervous the first ride down, but it's awesome!!

We left on Sunday just before noon and ate lunch that I packed for each kid in the car. I told them they could have a pop with dinner if they finished their lunch bags, and each of them did. I love the drive through the mountains, past all the different colored strata and across the Vail Pass. The weather was nice in Glenwood so we went right to the hot springs for a couple hours, then grabbed dinner at our favorite Mexican place in town. What is it that's so good about Mexican? It's the corn, right? The corn and the cheese? Yeah. That's just such an awesome combination. We stuffed ourselves with chips and salsa while trading Chips and Salsa memes. My favorite:HA!!

We stayed at the Hotel Glenwood Springs, at the base of the Adventure Park, and I have to say, it's what makes the vacation.
Yes, the hot springs are awesome. Yes, the Adventure Park, too. But if we stayed at a regular hotel the kids would not clamor to go back again next year. This hotel is totally awesome. They have their own pool and hot tub, with a zero depth entry, fountain, and baby slide for the littles, as well as a bball hoop, lazy river, and HUGE twirly slide for bigger kids. We spent SO MUCH TIME at this pool. Dan camped out at the base of the slide, quite literally playing the role of the Catcher in the Rye (except he was waist deep in water instead of rye) and caught the non-swimmers as they came shooting down the slide. My eldest had a great time playing HORSE with anyone nearby, attempting ridiculous and dangerous shots from In The Hot Tub! On The Steps! At The Opposite End of The Pool! Behind the Hoop! etc. We stayed three nights and on the last night they gave us a complimentary large pizza cooked by their pizza bar in the lobby, and a board game.

The pizza tasted good. It wasn't a true crust, just a Boboli type that's already cooked and they top it and broil it up so it's all melty. But the kids loved it and, did I mention, it was FREE? I thought it was such a nice touch that they threw that in for our stay. Also, they have a game room in the basement with Wii (Mario carts), a blackboard and chalk, bean bags, foosball table, and a little craft center with coloring books and crayons. We were down there quite a bit, and all the kids like having their own little room where they could hang out.

I decided ahead of time to spring for the kitchenette suite at the hotel and I'm thrilled with that option. We were able to eat something I cooked half the meals, and it also made breakfast much more pleasant. Their breafast is good: waffles, yogurt, cereal, juices, coffes and tea, fruit, hard boiled eggs, and toast/bagels/donuts. But I can't have hard boiled eggs, and the kids don't like them, so that left us without a protein option for breakfast. Also, the girls are dairy free. So I was able to bring my paleo sausage breakfast hash (loosely based on this recipe but adjusted to my FODMAP sensitivities) to heat up for myself, and have almond milk in the fridge for the girls to put in their cereal, and we were happy as clams. Other meals included fried rice, which I made by sauteing a chicken breast on the stove top and mixing it with chopped snap peas and carrots, then adding soy sauce and pre-cooked rice I'd prepared before we left. For two of the lunches I made sandwiches for the kids and served them with cut carrots and potato chips, and for Dan and I rolled roasted vegetables (prepared before we left) with cream cheese in a tortilla.

We had spent all day Monday at the Adventure Park, going down the alpine slide a million times, playing laser tag (Meia got scared but the older kids had fun,) touring the caves, and watching 4D movies (yep, you wear 3-D glasses to watch a film, and the chairs move and shake, and it sprays you with mist for a full sensory experience.) The gondola ride to the top of the mountain is always fun, although the line to get on the gondola is less so. We waited an entire hour, and we were one of the early ones because all we had to do was walk out of our hotel after breakfast. My boys found a fiberglass stake while we were in line and started dueling with it, only to find that the fiberglass wasn't stable. They ended up with tiny shards embedded in their hands. I raced back up to the room to get my tweezers, but even so they were in pain until we got to the top and asked the gift shop lady for some tape. That helped a bit more (my youngest stopped holding his hand at his side and began to actually use it again after the tape) but I don't think they were totally free until they went back to the pool that afternoon. We got some great pictures of the boys in the Squeeze Box, and the weather was perfect.

Tuesday the weather wasn't great. But I knew that was predicted from checking the weather a week before, and I'd brought some movies. We watched Adventures in Babysitting (which is dirtier than I remember it and I'm hoping the kids were as baffled by some of those references as I was back in the day) Groundhog Day (which I had to keep assuring them was going to be awesome because it starts pretty slow) and the new Ghostbusters (which had me dying of laughter. Chris Hemsworth dancing at the end is so great!) As I've mentioned, there was enough in the hotel to keep the kids occupied, so we didn't have to brave the cold.

All the kids were sad when we had to leave; we spent the maximum amount of time in the pool as possible and then went to the park to picnic and walk along the river before finally getting into the car around 2 pm to head home. We stopped on the way back in Frisco for coffee/hot chocolates and treats and were back home by dinnertime. All in all, we had a wonderful time. Kids got along except for a couple incidents which is to be expected and didn't ruin anything. We're planning to do it again next year!

Saturday, April 8, 2017

As we move into Holy Week, we can prepare by entering our Lord's Passion through the eyes of someone who was there. Here is a meditation on four works of art featuring Mary Magdalene, which I originally wrote for my Moms and Tots ministry.

We know Mary Magdalene best for her visit to Christ’s tomb,
bringing the spices to anoint him. While it is not certain, many also
believe she is the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and dried them
with her hair at the home of the Pharisee in Luke 7: 36-50.

In this painting by
Nik Helbig, Mary and Jesus are painted in an impressionist style. The softness
of the lines surrounding them give the illusion of her hair, which is the same
color as Jesus’ hands and cloak. We are meant to see that His spirit and hers
are united in this moment where she honors Jesus and is forgiven of all her
sins. The brightest part of this painting is her face, right in the center. Her
eyes are open as she gazes at His feet, gently touching them. And we see this
touch echoed above, as Jesus lays His hand gently on her head. As you look at this painting, what sort of
emotions come to you? The colors are like a rainbow after a storm, evoking the
hope that comes after darkness. Mary is peaceful, yet not happy. Her sins have
burdened her so much all her life. This is the very moment of her forgiveness;
she has not yet felt the weight lifting off her. She is still bent, crouched
over the feet of the only one who she believes can save her. What is she
thinking right now, as she feels Jesus lay his hand on her head? Take a moment to sit with this painting and allow the Lord
to speak to you through this image.

The next painting depicts Mary at the tomb on Easter
morning. It is titled Noli Me Tangere (Latin for “Do not touch me” or “Do not
cling to me”) and was painted by James Jacques Joseph Tissot. In John’s Gospel,
when Mary finally recognizes Jesus, she falls down to worship Him. He replies,
telling her not to hold on to him, because he has not yet ascended to the
Father, but to go and tell the disciples that she has seen Him. In this
painting, though they are very close, there is a distance between them. Mary
does not look at Jesus; her face is pressed into the ground, but she raises her
hands in supplication. She knows this is the Son of God, risen from the dead.
The apologetics site “Unam Sanctam Catholicam” describes the moment this way:

In addition to fear of the
Lord, Christ inspired within Mary a deepening of faith through His gentle
command to cease touching Him. Physically touching the Lord surely served as a
great comfort to Mary Magdalene. In the midst of our Lord’s Passion, Mary
remained close to Him, right beside the Cross. In the midst of her great grief,
the body of our Lord is that which Mary sought. Yet, Mary’s faith was great;
hence, she was the first witness of the Resurrection, the first one to see the
Risen Lord. With the removal of this comfort from physical touch, with this
abandonment of self, Mary would have to grow in faith. Her faith in Christ,
rather than physical touching of Christ, would have to be her comfort and
consolation. This deepening of faith in Mary Magdalene certainly would have
been preparatory for the time between Christ’s Ascension and the Descent of the
Holy Spirit. It is as though by saying “For I have not yet ascended to the
Father” Christ is also revealing to Mary that His salvation of mankind is not
yet finished; He still must ascend to Heaven and send His Spirit. With the
sending of the Holy Spirit, there is a more complete restoration of the union,
the “touch,” between Christ and man. Mary was being told to wait, rely on her
faith, wait for the Spirit, and grow keen to the spiritual Presence of our
Lord.

Notice some of the details the artist has included, and
ponder what meaning they have to you. Jesus’ hand is in the three fingered
blessing that was common in early Medieval and Renaissance art. The three
outstretched fingers alludes to the Trinity. Is he blessing Mary, or showing us
that He is going to the Father? Both the tomb and the temple are visible in
this painting. The tomb housed the body of Christ and was the site of His
resurrection. The temple was the spiritual center of the Jewish faith, and
housed the Ark of the Covenant the Word of God. Christ, too, is the Word of God,
and the tomb parallels the Temple where God Himself entered to encounter His
people. Take a moment to examine the painting, and see if the Lord gives you
any other insights.

Here is Mary in a very different light. Mark Hough paints her standing, her
eyes lifted, her face full of wonder and awe. The halo behind her head
signifies that she is a holy woman, and the banner above her head proclaims “I
have seen the Lord!” but it is her face that communicates most clearly her
encounter with God. Notice how her hand is in almost the same position as
Jesus’ in the last painting. But she is not blessing the Apostles; she is
instructing them. Here is Mary as the messenger, the original evangelist,
proclaiming the Good News. The columns and arches behind her evoke the naves of
a Cathedral, and her rich and beautiful clothes are colored with Christian
symbolism: Red for martyrdom and the blood Christ shed on the cross, Gold for
his kingship and the glory of his resurrection, White for purity, forgiveness,
and salvation, and a thin band of blue, the color of our Blessed Mother, which
binds together Christ’s sacrifice and our redemption.

Take a moment to reflect on this image. If you were one of
the Apostles, seeing Mary come to you like this, would you believe something
miraculous and inexplicable had indeed occurred?

Lastly we have this painting by Francesco Hayez,
titled: Crucifixion with Mary Magdalene
Kneeling and Weeping. In this image we see brought together all three of her
roles. She is wiping his feet with her hair, as she did to honor him at the
home of the Pharisee. Now she does it to comfort him in his agony. See how one
arm embraces the cross? At the time, she would not have known its glory, but
from the perspective of history, we the viewer can see that the cross is an instrument
of salvation. Just as she was forgiven all her sins, so are we. The cross is glorious, we adore it as
we adore Christ because he sanctified it. We will venerate the cross this coming Holy
Thursday, as Mary Magdalene is doing here. Look now at her face. Her eyes are
downcast, yet she has a slight smile, and her face is bright like the line of
the horizon behind her. The darkness surrounds Jesus, except for a circle
almost like a halo just around the top
of the cross. But around Mary it is not dark.
She still has Jesus, and that brings her hope and life. But death is coming. The skull beside the
Cross, Christ's closed eyes, and the descending darkness makes that clear. Here were are at the very last moments of Christ’s
life, and Mary is clinging to him, and clinging to the Cross.

When Mary Magdalene sees the man at Jesus’ tomb, she thinks
he is a gardener. It doesn’t occur to her that it is Jesus. She is blinded by
her grief, her own human failings, because in that moment, she believed her
struggles were greater than God himself.
She has forgotten Christ’s promise that he will rebuild this temple in
three days (Cf, Jn 2:19). She, who sat
at the feet of Jesus as he suffered on the cross, does not recognize that
Christ is standing in front of her.

Take a moment now to see God in this painting, and to seek
Him in your heart and in your everyday fears and hardships.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

I post this picture to illustrate what my life is like these days. Not because it's a great picture (which it is) but because this was MEANT to be my holiday card picture. I send cards every year, real cards, that I write in by hand with a nice little personalized Christmas message. I also enclose a picture and a letter detailing what we've been up to the past year. I love it. I send almost a hundred every year and it's a wonderful tradition that I'm very happy with.

However. This year I COULD NOT get the picture to work. My friend took this one of us when I realized that the pictures I'd had my dad take in August were not accessible from any phone but his. Then for a long time I couldn't figure out how to access this one, either. Finally my husband just emailed it to me (old school tech.) Even then I couldn't get it to print properly on our printer. It kept coming out all yellowed. I decided to spring for actual photos, and went to Shutterfly to place an order for pick up at Target. They wouldn't let me order more than 9. In case you missed that part, I send 10x that number of cards.

So, I could have called them, maybe, and tried to figure it out, but since it was pretty much a week till Christmas at that point I called it and decided no picture with my card this year.

Homeschool
It's hard to view this year's attempt at homeschooling as anything but a flaming trainwreck, unless it's to look at it as a dumpster fire. I could not get my 10 year old to do anything. For the first three months we went on a field trip every week and kept a loose schedule to see where her interests and learning style lay. When that resulted in very little work being accomplished, I put together a daily schedule and sat beside her to work on every subject. She got WORSE. Over Thanksgiving I had many conversations with her, my husband, and friends who homeschooled, and the best we could determine was that she was sabotaging the experience because she hated being at home. She claimed she didn't know how to write a paragraph, so I assigned her one sentence. She couldn't even do that. Literally, lying on the floor, kicking her legs and crying, claiming she "didn't know what to write." I started bringing her to the library every morning for three hours and whatever was done in that time was our work for the day. I had to limit the number of hours that I'd work with her because otherwise it ate up the whole day. Every science test I gave her was an F. She wasn't on track to finish her math at grade level. She wouldn't do her writing assignments or her grammar. The only thing she enjoyed was Latin and read-alouds. If she had been doing art, or anything constructive, I could have at least pointed to that and said, hey, she's learning and growing in this area, so it's okay. But after about a month of homeschool, she refused to work on her art at all.

During this same period of time, my son refused to do the work assigned to him by his homeschool co-op, and during conferences managed to convince them that he'd learn better if he did all his work online. After Thanksgiving, seeing that he had turned nothing in and was spending his "school hours" playing video games, I sat him at a computer where I could see the screen to ensure that he was actually doing work. Still, he wouldn't turn in his projects. On the last day of the semester I went in to his co-op for a celebration, and tracked down one of his teachers to let her know that he was prepared to present four projects that day. She'd had no idea he'd even done them. He ended the semester with a D, two Cs, and a B-. And that B- was an F before I intervened. So we thought about it and determined that it wasn't working, and we needed to accept that and change course. They both started at public school by the third week of January and are doing well. My daughter keeps asking to be homeschooled next year because she doesn't like all the homework. But seeing what she's able to produce in the environment vs what she refused to do with me, I can't see that homeschool is at all an option for us anymore.

Whole 30
After we got back from our Disney Trip, I put the family on a Whole 30 diet. Mostly I wanted to curtail the habits we'd picked up over the holidays of having dessert 3-4 times a day and whining for snacks constantly. My husband and I also wanted to lose some weight, as we didn't fit into our pants. For me, there were health issues I wanted to cure, as I've had stomachaches, heartburn, and digestive issues (to state it delicately!) The diet itself was fine; it was difficult but not impossible. We ate a lot of fruit which helped with sugar cravings, and I had a repertoire of recipes from GAPS and from friends who have gone through it. Unfortunately, I saw no improvement of any kind, whether in weight loss or reduction of my cravings or digestive symptoms. My husband says he lost some weight, but I don't think either of us saw the results we were hoping for, especially considering how much work I put into cooking every single meal for those 30 days. (Part of the diet involves not eating out.) So I am still eating a limited diet to avoid aggravating my heartburn, and wearing skirts and sweatpants as much as possible. Not happy.

The Book
Is still on hiatus. I stopped writing a year ago (April 2016) because I just couldn't handle having a puppy on top of everything else. I had too much work to be able to take a whole Saturday and write. Once the kids went back to school, people were asking if I planned to work on the book again. The short answer is, no. Not yet. To my mind, the book is a huge time and resource commitment with a slim chance of low return. Getting published requires more than talent and hard work; you have to also write the sort of book publishers are looking for right now, and that people want to read. Short of stumbling upon some sort of Harry Potter or Twilight niche, the best I can hope for is to make around $20,000. So I've never felt that it was appropriate to expend my family's resources on writing when my contributions are so necessary in other areas. But the real reason is that I just don't think I'm good enough at writing to get anywhere with it. It's going to have to be a hobby for me; not a profession. My husband says that's exactly the wrong attitude, and if I want to be a successful writer I have to make failure a non-option. That the only way to get better at it is to sink time and energy and training into becoming better. It's wonderful to have someone who believes in me, and I appreciate everything he's saying. I'm sure he's right. But again it comes down to the fact that this can't be the right time for me to invest in the book. We are investing in other things right now. The book must wait.

Parenting
People insist that I have great kids. I agree, but it's not easy to get them there. I am very tired of the fighting and arguing. On the one hand there's been great improvement in this area because my confidence as an authority has skyrocketed in the last year. I know that it's right for me to manage their screen time, to insist they eat a balanced diet, to require them to help around the house. So I expect all these things, and, as children do, they fight me constantly because they don't want to do them. Each child has his/her own unique method of resistance. Maizie fusses and cries and complains. Pookie screams "I hate you!" hits, and calls me stupid. Doob does a bad job and claims it should count. And Ginny shuts down and refuses to comply, then offers snide remarks to extended family at my expense. Among the many fine abilities my husband has, discipline is not one. Nor does he have time to figure out and enforce the massive network of rules and arrangements I've established with the kids. The end result is that I expend an enormous amount of work (mental and otherwise) to keep on top of the kids. I really feel parenting shouldn't be quite this hard, and I'm wondering when the fruits of my labors are going to show. The truth is, sometimes I don't like being around any of them. Those fleeting moments of joy, like when I watch my 5 year old riding a bike for the first time, or hear the peals of laughter as all four jump on the trampoline together, or receive a spontaneous hug from the 3 year old, are present every day and make the journey worthwhile. Yet they are too few to really sustain me.

Prayer
It will come as no surprise, given this self-indulgent and whiny post, that my prayer life has been a struggle, too. When I find time and energy to be with the Lord, I feel so much better. Going on a mini-retreat with my mother's group, reading a spiritual book, or even something as simple as listening to Christian music is enough to draw me right back to where I am fed and sustained from the grace of God. Yet there is SO MUCH NOISE, not just in my house but in my head. Concentrating on anything is so difficult. What I really long for is escape...re-reading a book I love, or imagining scenes from my world in my head. Prayer takes effort, and I have expended so much elsewhere that it's hard to find the motivation. I know that I need it. I know that it will help me. I want to do it, yet I don't. I feel much like a person who realizes that cooking an actual meal will nourish them best, but they grab a packet of potato chips instead. Not that I do that. I am a superstar on the nutritional front. But I'm filling up on processed prayer.

I know that the answer is quite simple. Trust God. Keep moving forward. Do what's right and the rest will follow. I know that I'm a good parent, and my kids will be fine. I would love to just shut off the neurotic parts of my brain that question everything I do and whisper that I'm the problem. I envy the amazing women in my life who don't overthink every damn little thing. I can recognize, intellectually, that things are getting better.

I know I am slightly (if not severely) depressed. My OB and I are working on some supplements that may help better than the SSRIs I was on for three years (and which I didn't feel did much.) In the meantime, I'm just going to keep doing what I need to do and seizing joy wherever it finds me. Most days are better than today.

About the Blogger

Catholic wife and mother. Lover of wine and good books. Striving to live each day as though I might meet my Savior the next.
My blog documents my attempts to bring a global perspective to my everyday decisions, in the hopes that I might actually be able to make a difference that matters.

He said to them in reply, "Whoever has two cloaks should share with the person who has none. And whoever has food should do likewise."Luke, 3:11

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. " He said to him, "Feed my lambs." He then said to him a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. " He said to him, "Tend my sheep. " He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" Peter was distressed that he had said to him a third time, "Do you love me?" and he said to him, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you. Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep." John 21:15-17

PRAYER OF ST. THOMAS MOREGood Lord, give me the grace so to spend my life, that when the day of my death come, though I may feel pain in my body, I may feel comfort in my soul; and with faithful hope in your mercy, in due love towards you and charity toward the world, I may, through your grace, part hence and into your glory.